


Shy

by Marasa



Series: Dynamic Stretching [1]
Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Acceptance, Anxiety, Carnival, Drabble, Ectrodactyly, Fluff, Freak Show, Hurt/Comfort, Love, M/M, Shy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 02:03:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12288891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marasa/pseuds/Marasa
Summary: He can't look at him.





	Shy

**Author's Note:**

> So I had an idea to do a series of short little drabbles to get my writing juices flowing (ew).
> 
> All of them will be under 1000 words and will serve as a way to explore diverse ideas, challenge myself and hopefully better my writing while giving you all a cool and quick read!
> 
> Please shoot me prompts (preferably few words/one sentence). This first prompt comes from day 7 of Inktober- 'shy.'
> 
> Hope you all enjoy!

He can't look at him.

He stares at his boots instead, at the leaves beneath them. His chin is almost touching his chest, he can't risk looking up. 

It doesn't matter that Tyler was the one who drug his boyfriend here, in the middle of the forest on a brief, rare wind of confidence earlier this morning. 

It's since faded to self-consciousness and a nasty feeling of anxiety.

All he wanted to do was just show Josh, just show the man he loved who he really was without all the shame and sadness. It was supposed to be happy, intimate, the next step.

All he feels is shame now.

“Tyler?”

Tyler’s fingers twitch in his oversized gloves. They're black and puffy and stupidly oversized. They look like oven mitts. 

“Tyler, please look at me.”

It's so hard to make eye contact though. It's easy for Josh because Josh is like...a superstar or something. He loves talking to people and Tyler...Tyler's a freak.

“Fucking freak,” Tyler says as he squeezes his eyes shut tightly and bangs his mitted hand against the side of his head. It doesn't hurt; it lands like a pillow.

Josh’s hand catches his. He squeezes the plush material, a little firmer so he can feel the outline of the hand inside.

“You're not a freak,” Josh says quiet, soothing.

“You don't know,” Tyler whispers brokenly, “you've never seen it.”

“You're not a freak,” he repeats.

Tyler still doesn't believe him, but he wants to. He has dreams sometimes that he's normal.

“I want to show you,” Tyler murmurs. He finally opens his eyes, looks up. Josh looks back.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

Tyler peels off his gloves with little trouble. They fall to the ground. Tyler’s heart races. He doesn't want to look up.

He feels vulnerable. Tears prick his eyes. He keeps his head down as he holds his claws up to the man who means the world to him.

“Tyler,” Josh says airily.

Tyler whines.

“Look at me, Tyler,” he pleads. “Baby boy, look at me, c’mon.”

But Tyler doesn't want to look at him. He may be a performer, but he's still gets incredibly shy, although, it's mostly with Josh. For some reason, he always feels much more ashamed of his condition when Josh comes around.

Josh is so nice, he never thinks he'd say anything bad about it, but Tyler's a freak. He makes a living being one. Late night performances as Lobster Boy, a barely livable wage, disgusted looks.

Tyler’s stomach churns. He never wants Josh to look at him like that. Ever.

But here he is, vulnerable and near crying, looking at the ground.

“Tyler, please look at me, please.”

It's too late to hide. Tyler looks up.

Josh's smile is blinding. It makes a few tears slip from Tyler’s eyes. No one's ever looked at him like that before, with so much love.

Josh takes his hands in his. Tyler flinches, but Josh is soft.

“Beautiful,” Josh whispers as his thumbs rub circles on the backs of his hands, just under the separation of his fingers. “You're so beautiful, Tyler. You're amazing.”

Tyler still feels shy, although, it's different this time. It's warmer, less shameful, more happy, less traumatic.

Josh turns Tyler’s hands over and kisses the bottom of the deep ‘V’s that hit the center of each palm. Tyler's fingers twitch.

“I love you,” Josh says.

“I’m a freak,” Tyler says.

Josh brings Tyler’s hands to the center of his torso before slipping his arms around him, successfully trapping his hands between them. Josh smiles when he feels Tyler’s fingers curl into his shirt. His shy grip feels softer than the mitt ever could.

“You're not a freak,” Josh whispers against his hairline. “Tyler, you're different. That doesn't make you a freak. I love you, Tyler, I love you so much; you're not a freak.”

Tyler smiles. He likes how it's warm between them, even in the middle of the chilly forest in autumn. He likes the way Josh is murmuring the words ‘beautiful’ and ‘love’ against his temple. He likes the way his bare palms feel against his boyfriend’s stomach.

Shyness forgotten, anxiety quelled, Tyler’s mind is blank as he just allows for the love to wash over him. 

For the first time in his life, his mind is free of the word ‘freak.’

**Author's Note:**

> I hope to do this series perhaps 2 times a month? Maybe 4? We'll see. Again, leave me prompts/don't be afraid to leave requests. Thanks!


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